


The White Rose

by ashangel101010



Series: Co-Guardian Vader [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, M/M, Politics, Procopia (Star Wars), Undercover, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29001108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashangel101010/pseuds/ashangel101010
Summary: There is a lion in the rose garden.
Relationships: Armitage Hux & Task Force 99, Armitage Hux & Triclops, Brendol Hux/Triclops, Kreel & Triclops (Star Wars)
Series: Co-Guardian Vader [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532138
Kudos: 1





	The White Rose

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing in the Star Wars universe or anything in any universe; I just like writing stories in that universe.

The White Rose

*

The Festival of Love is not appreciated on Arkanis; the Arkanisians prefer to spend the holiday sipping wine and eating overly priced shaak steaks from equally overly priced restaurants. Rama dutifully informed Lord Vader of all this. In Lord Vader’s resourceful thinking, he proposed that Rama and Armitage go to Procopia. And that is how Task Force 99 got saddled with two civilians during an undercover mission.

 _“Why is everyone in masks?”_ Zuke asks over the comms.

 _“Because this is how the capital celebrates the Festival of Love by throwing masked balls.”_ Mic explains quickly.

 _“It’s broad daylight and summer! Does no one get hot on this planet!?”_ Shrap demands.

 _“It’s perfectly mild.”_ Misty replies.

 _“I think Rama’s hot.”_ Cav says bluntly.

 _“Don’t you agree, Sarge?”_ Shrap asks cheekily.

“Maintain comm silence.” Kreel orders and feels another arm wrapped around his flesh one. He looks to see that Rama has latched onto him. He’s bedecked in rose red robes made of a breezy, almost flimsy material that is perfect for the summer weather. He dyed his hair red and curled his hair into springy ringlets. He wears a mask of red lace with a red stone at the center of the forehead. Even with the mask, the average Imperial citizen would presume that a youthful version of their Emperor was walking amongst them.

It’s a good thing that they were on Procopia where local politics is the lifeblood of the planet, and so the citizens memorize the faces of their lords and ladies rather than their Emperor. It also helps that wine and all manners of booze flow freely today.

“Isn’t this lovely, love?” Rama breathes in the floral scent of the gardens along with the fountain of white wine.

“Hm.” Kreel merely grunts.

“The Alaphoe Gardens is House Cadriaan’s pride and joy, particularly during Capital Season.”

“And all of these people are part of House Cadriaan?”

“By blood or through marriage. We won’t be seeing any of the high-ranking members until we enter the Glass Palace, most likely during the ball tonight where they present themselves as gods amongst mortals.”

“That’s three hours from now.” Kreel always hated the waiting during missions. 

“Leaves us with plenty of time to bond as a family, dearie!” Rama grins like a mad princeling. 

“Aren’t you concerned about a certain family member discovering your whereabouts here?”

“I, Volpau Pallopides, am the Emperor’s grand-nephew through a third cousin. He’s never cared about the lesser branches of House Palpatine.” Rama snorts derisively. 

“You could still be kidnapped and ransomed.”

“You know I can handle myself, _husband_.” Rama delights in the final word like Armitage in the garden. The toddler short, red robes with maroon tights and dark slippers. Around his tiny waist is a sash of cosmic purple much like the head scarf that Kreel sports. His red hair reaches his shoulders in little waves. His green eyes are captivated by all the flowers.

“Armitage, which flower is your favorite.”

“The jade roses, father!” The toddler points at a bush baring the green-colored roses; they are naturally found on Coruscant’s upper levels.

“And you, my Ederlathh?” Kreel looks around and sees a familiar-looking flower. It has yellow petals and thin, purple thorns.

“The yellow one.”

“The flower is known as an urchin. It’s semi-sentient and reacts when touched by either writhing or shooting its quills at the perpetrator. The flower is native to Tatooine.”

Ah, now he remembers where he saw it: at Grakkus the Hutt’s palace. 

“Why would they have this flower?” 

“Why indeed?” Rama smiles. 

*

Aero and Mic are sliced into Laolos Island’s security feeds. They have eyes and ears on the rest of their team. Misty and Shrap are watching the Moff forcibly mingle with some nobles. Zuke and Cav are performing their roles as guardsmen around the palace. Sarge, Rama, and Armitage are taking their own tour of the gardens.

Mic sighs in utter boredom.

“Not enjoying Sarge trying to handle Rama?” Aero brings up before popping a topato chip that Rama made for their lunch.

“It was funny in the first hour when he loathed what he was wearing, but it’s nothing to him now like the party.” Mic huffs. Their Sarge wears a purple robe with a crimson sash wrapped around his middle. Aero is reminded of the royals that used to strut their stuff back on Felacat.

“I’d say he’s more concerned by Armitage rubbing his face against the mechno arm. You’d think he’d try biting it like any baby would.”

“Only cats do that! The kid’s half-pittin!”

“Or his parents taught him that biting people isn’t polite.”

“Sarge wouldn’t have to endure this if it was Maratelle there.” Mic comments slyly.

“She’d be bored.” Aero replies with a mouthful of chips.

“And how would you know? She’s a professional socialite that’s why Hux married her.”

“And what would they talk about? Books? Have you ever seen Sarge read a book for fun?”

“True.” Mic looks at the faux family taking refuge under a tree for its cool shadows. “I didn’t think he was capable of joy. Not even when we were killing some Rebels.”

“You think he’s enjoying himself? I haven’t seen him smile once.”

“He lets Rama be all over him!”

“They’re supposed to be husband and husband. It’d be pretty weird for them not to act lovey-dovey.”

“Rama’s the actor; Sarge is not.”

*

Misty is certain Moff Laird Gustavu would rather be cleaning his collection of ancient pistols than be outside. The man looks over his shoulder every handful of minutes like believes himself to be a target for assassination, which would be true if the Moff had any real power. He’s a paper-pusher that takes credit for his subordinates’ work. If anything, he should be more worried about a disgruntle aide wanting to kill him. However, there is a terrorist on the loose in the system, so it’s not wrong of the Moff to believe himself to by the primary target.

“Has the ball started yet?” Shrap asks for the tenth time in the last two hours.

“No, we got like forty-five minutes to go.” Misty wishes for the tenth time in the past two hours that he was paired with Zuke or Cav because those two know when to shut the hells up during a mission.

“How many nobles does he have to schmooze? This is the twelfth group!”

“It’s House Pelagia.”

“Are they related to the Pelagia Freedom Force?”

“Their leader is from the House’s province of the same name, but other than that? Nothing substantial. Though they are allied to House Cadriaan.”

“Really? They seem pretty cozy with the Moff, and that High Lady from Cadriaan look like she’d rather eat bantha poodoo than be in his presence.”

“They’re politicians; they’ll ally to whoever is of use, even their worst enemies.”

“There’s no Senate to worry about anymore.” Shrap grins.

“Pretty certain that’s just another reason for the Rebels to raise holy war.” Neither of them dares to bring up Alderaan.

“Shouldn’t ISB be doing this? They’re Intelligence and pride themselves as being the best in the galaxy.” Shrap brings up.

“Probably, but it’s a huge mess there and being led in like seven different directions. This is what happens when high command takes over.” _After the bombings that killed the Director Ison and his underlings, ISB High Command couldn’t find anyone to fill his position. The only other candidate was Colonel Yularen, but he was killed on the Death Star along with over a million people._

“Maybe the next generation will fill those leadership posts.” 

“Imagine being led by Armitage!”

“If he takes care of us the way he does with his toys, then we’ll be fine. And maybe covered in glitter.” 

*

Zuke wants to itch his back so bad, but the armor he has on doesn’t let him reach behind his back. He finds it unnecessarily heavy for a simple job as being a palace guard, and the robes are stiff like someone used too much starch. Worst of all, there are very few pockets for him to conceal additional weapons. The palace guards were only issued a military hold-out blaster and a vibrodagger. If a serious firefight were to happen, then Zuke would have to rely on Cav to get them though.

“Finally, it’s night.” Cav sighs happily.

“You think the terrorist will show up?” _If the intel can be believed, then the terrorist is part of the Houses. My credits are on Cadriaan considering how much bellyaching they’ve done about the Empire._

“I hope so. I really don’t want to play guard again. Seriously, I’d be surprised if these blasters are genuine military-grade.”

“You could still use them for bludgeoning.”

“I guess.”

“If this mission lasts longer than we thought, maybe we can swap roles with Shrap and Misty.”

“Shrap would get into a fight, and Misty is better suited for long-range.”

“Yeah. Mic wouldn’t do because he’s too scrawny. Aero is our best driver/pilot, and we need transport when everything foes to poodoo.”

“And Sarge is too scary.”

“Not to the kit.” Before the mission started, Cav and Zuke came up with codenames for certain individuals. Like Armitage being _the kit_ because he’s got ginger fuzz like one.

“The kit is the same with the Wizard.” _The Wizard_ is Lord Vader based on an old rumor they heard from the officers.

“It’s kind of weird, isn’t it? I never thought the Wizard would be good with kids what with him being a wizard.”

“I think it’s just the kit.”

“The same can be said of us.”

“What are you talking about? Remember that club we went to? I got all those hugs because I’m a bear!” Cav declares proudly.

“But those were grown men.” Zuke points out.

“I’m cuddly though!”

“Okay, but that doesn’t refute what I’m saying.”

“Well, Rama thinks we’re good enough to be around his kit.”

“Huh, I guess we’re worthy!”

*

Rama flashes a dazzling if slightly crooked smile at Zuke as he ascends the steps. The heavy weapon specialist’s tan cheeks suffuse with pink. From the corner of his third eye, he can see Cav studying the crowd for the mysterious terrorist before noticing the blush on his partner’s face. Cav is mouthing his question, and Zuke just shakes his head.

_I really need to stop teasing them while they’re on duty. But I’m having so much fun!_

He tightens his grasp on Kreel’s organic arm, while Kreel merely grunts and focuses ahead.

“Masks!” Armitage shrieks in delight when they make it to the top of the Wayland marble steps. There’s a sea of nobles in extravagant masks. Some wear realistic masks such as one woman wearing a rancor’s head while she twirls in jade shimmersilk. Others have bedazzled their masks with precious gemstones or feathers from rare birds such as the Surakkean peacock. Nearly all of House Cadriaan opted for simple domino masks of equally understated colors.

“Even Lord Adannon is following the High Lady’s lead!” Rama whispers to Kreel. Lord Adannon is a brash young man with thinning, pumpkin-orange hair; he fiddles with the saber rake on his belt. 

“He’s arrogant but not completely stupid.” _Though stupid enough to wear Rebel orange._ Rama can surmise the unspoken comment in Kreel’s stoic face.

“Sir Wennel shares your opinion.” He gestures with a flick of his wrist at the man only five years older than Adannon and with all the hair that the chloric younger man lost but concentrated onto his jaw and upper lip. He looks like a charming rogue, but he knows how to use the lightfoil clipped to his worn belt.

“And that’s all we share.”

_Always so concise! Though he is half-correct. Sir Ajax Wennel hates the Empire as much as Adannon, but his hatred is due to the Empire’s lack of honor. And here I thought antiquated chivalry was dead!_

“He dislikes the Rebellion, or, rather, the extremist cells that still consider themselves part of the Alliance even after Mothma’s public disavowal.”

“And High Lady Bathos?”

“Neutral. It has taken her so long to become the head of the house; she’s not going to give it up for the sake of lofty ideals.”

“Do you know anything of her past?”

“She married High Lord Theus Paddox of House Pelagia, even though she was a commoner. It was a rare combination of a love match and pragmatism; she’s quite a genius at making alliances, even with houses that looked down on commoners like her. Her High Lord died eventually, but she built up enough of a power base to become the High Lady of House Cadriaan.”

“Shouldn’t she be ruling House Pelagia since her husband was their High Lord?”

“Problem is House Pelagia are duplicitous arses, and she didn’t want to deal with the constant headaches of their plots. The house members are literally wearing snake masks, minus their one lion bodyguard, so they’re not exactly subtle. House Cadriaan is known for its candor and far easier to manipulate her way to the top.”

“So, who rules House Pelagia?”

“That would be Paddox’s younger siblings: Verinia and Trad.” Rama gestures toward the black-haired children stealing honey cakes from the refreshment table. 

“They’re not even thirteen.”

“Verinia would be thirty, while Trad would be twenty-eight. However, twenty years ago, their ship was hijacked by House Mecetti, but their governess put them in stasis and left them in the care of the ship’s crew. Unfortunately, the ship was lost until fairly recently.”

“And the rest of the house believed that chronological age trumps biological?”

“Only blood relations can become High Lords or Ladies in Pelagia.”

“They’re just puppets.”

“Exactly. Easy to control and manipulate by the rest of the house. At least, until they mature and see their strings.”

The conversation around them quiets down as the High Lords and Ladies of each house congregate on the platform. Each of them gives some small speech about peace, stability, and union before finally letting the orchestra work their magic. The conductor favors the chimes and flutes native to Procopia before allowing the strings.

“Wistie music.” Armitage grins as he figures it out.

“ _The Dance of the Wisties_.” His son grins like the proudest of princes and then holds up his little hand.

“Father, may I have this dance?”

*

Armitage knows his father is the most beautiful person in the world. Even the fake red in his hair just highlights his father’s green eyes. He has his arms around his father’s soft neck like his father does with sire during their dances. He’s seen them dance so many times, but he’s not tall like sire or his father. Not even when he’s on his tippy toes. His father must hold him up, but he doesn’t mind. He’s smiling like he’s tending to his garden.

“Why are you smiling?” 

[I’m with you, my heart.] His father says in Naboo. Armitage knows a bit of Naboo and a bit of Ancient Sith; his father wants him to learn lots of languages for words are beautiful inventions.

[I love you!] Armitage replies in Naboo. The dance concludes in a toss, Armitage soars, high above the sea of masks. He sees the lion with mane as yellow as Vader’s eyes. The lion’s got a thorn blinking red in his paw. He makes a fist over it. The stone fishes explode into riots of reds and oranges. His father and Kreel crumple to the ground when the wave of gray hits them.

And Armitage falls into the jaws of the lion. 

*

Kreel wakes to fire consuming the ball room and impeccably dressed corpses. None of them were the Moff, so the team hasn’t failed their mission yet.

And then he sees Rama.

Dried copper cakes his chin, while gray dust smothers the red in his costume. His eyes are green infernos threatening to consume any poor fool at the other end of his fury. Rama looks out of the broken window and snarls. He leaps out of the broken window like the elk-like baranda and lands perfectly before sprinting. He’s a blur like a flash of lightning. Kreel can only follow his movements because of the little fires he leaves behind.

 _“Sarge, what the pfassk happened!?”_ Mic breaks comm silence.

“The bombs weren’t in the foundation; they were in those ancient fish statues.”

_“I take it that the Moff is dead.”_

“Alive. Sir Wennel is escorting him out along with any the survivors that can move.”

_“And the terrorist?”_

“Also, alive. And he took Armitage.”

 _“KRIFF! That’s even worse!”_ Shrap’s hiss causes the frequency to crackle.

 _“Sarge, we’re on our way!”_ Zuke says.

“Rama went into the forest, chasing down the terrorist. I’m going to follow him.” Kreel takes the back exit and then runs as fast he can. He hopes that Rama won’t set the entire forest on fire in his pursuit. 

*

The lion does not have Vader’s voice; it’s not a thunder boom. It’s plainer and softer like he wants to be forgotten. It makes Armitage sleepy, but the running keeps him awake. It’s too much running, and he trips over his own slippers. The lion doesn’t stop to make sure he’s okay or to yell at him. He just picks him up and carries him like a bag of topatoes.

“Where are we going?” Armitage asks when the lion stops to catch his breath.

“To the ocean.”

“Too much water.”

“There’s a ship, so no swimming.” The lion’s smile reveals he’s missing a few of his teeth.

“Ships are for space.”

“And it will take us to space.”

“Where are we going?”

“Some friends of mine would love to meet you.”

“Why?” 

“You’re special.”

“Of course! My father and sire made me!” Armitage huffs at the obvious. The lion then continues running, running, running, running, and then he slows when the trees thin out and finally stops where the grass meets sand. The ocean is almost as dark as the night, but the tiny starship gleams like a star.

“I smell smoke.” Armitage says. And then, Armitage falls onto the sandy grass, along with the lion’s blue and white paws. They are cold like ice; the lion falls to his knees and cries. Armitage turns around and sees a fire burning in the distance. His father reaches the beach.

“Father!” Armitage scrambles to him and hugs his dusty legs. His father pets his head with chilly fingers.

“Earnst Kamiel of the Justice Action Network. You died on Haldeen, but here you are.” His father’s voice gives him the shivers.

“The Empire won’t win!” The lion shouts bravely.

“It won’t. It’s falling apart and nothing can save it. Not even the Emperor.” His father recites like the Emperor-Prophet.

“You’re his—”

His father shushes him and then turns his attention back to his heart.

“Armitage, it’s time for us to go.” His father says gently like it’s his bedtime.

“Can I say goodbye?”

“Yes, my sweet, but don’t look.”

“Goodbye, lion.” Armitage doesn’t dare look back at the lion; he stares at the lion’s paws instead. More ice than flesh.

“Goodbye.” The lion sounds tired and sad. Armitage almost looks back, but he obeys his father. He hopes that the lion gets new paws that whirl like the little gears in Kreel’s fake arm. 

*

Brendol makes sure to not get any of the shampoo in Rama’s third eye. He’s scrubbing the dye from Rama’s long hair while also giving him a head massage. Rama responds with quiet noise of pleasure; he’d be moaning if it weren’t for dragonling in the next room. Armitage is zonked out from the trip. After he rinses the suds from his beloved’s hair, Brendol decides to ask about the mission.

“How did Kamiel survive the firing squad?”

“His fellow JAN agents sliced into the prison’s database and swapped his identity with another prisoner’s.”

“I know competent officers are in short supply now, but I’m fairly certain that a man with a death sentence in 54 systems would be a holo that the officers memorized.”

“Apparently, the other prisoner was his _tulpa_.” Rama knows just how to make him smile.

“Any particular reason he thought that kidnapping Armitage was a good idea?”

“He figured it out that I was the Emperor’s bastard and believed that the Emperor would give a damn about his grandson.” Rama snorts as he turns on the blow dryer. Brendol pulls the plug in the tub and watches the red water drain away. Minutes later, Rama’s hair is fluffier than a baby nerf’s fur. 

“He wished to strike at the Emperor’s heart. Little does he know that father has no heart left to wound.” Rama pulls on the black bathrobe and cinches the belt so tightly around his waist that he hisses.

“Let me help, love.” Rama leans against the ‘fresher’s tiled wall and gives him a sultry look with his emerald eyes. Brendol works at the complicated knot and listens to Rama.

“I had Zuke take Armitage away, so he didn’t see Kamiel lose his feet or hear any of his screams. I worry that I still scarred our son.” Rama confesses with worry replacing the lust form earlier.

“He’s two. He’ll forget most of the trip within a day; it’ll be like a dream to him.”

And Armitage does forget most of the trip in favor of important things like learning to read or remembering how to put away his toys. Every now and again, he’ll dream a remarkably familiar dream. There’s a lion missing some of his teeth with a thorn in his paw. There’s no one there to pull it out, so it digs deeper and deeper until it’s impossible to pull out. Eventually, the lion gets sick and collapses in the winter. The frost claims his paws, while the lion roars in agony. Armitage would wake up feeling sad and hoping that the lion gets new paws.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Comments- Here is the link: 
> 
> Here is an image of Rama’s mask: [Link](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/00/13/62/001362d9cacf7dfbf56cae2f62bea63a.jpg)
> 
> This was supposed to be a New Year story, but I got bored with it and turned it into a Valentine’s Day story. The Festival of Love is the SW-equivalent of the Earth holiday of love and candy. Earnst Kamiel existed in Legends/EU and only in “Galaxywide NewsNets” for three journal adventures from West End Games, but I decided to do something beyond his death on Haldeen. 
> 
> Rama’s fake name Volpau Pallopides comes from Volpau who was Palpatine’s third cousin in Legends/EU and Ederlathh Pallopides who was Palpatine’s great-niece (possibly through a cousin since Palpatine killed his parents and siblings) that was used as a pawn in Admiral Betl Oxtroe’s plan to unite the fractured Empire behind a figurehead empress. Neither of these characters exist in New Canon, but I still found them more interesting than the New Canon Palpatine family. And Rama gets to be a Palpatine for a day and, and just like daddy dearest, he will tear your heart apart with his slightly crooked teeth!
> 
> Also, Felacat exists in Legends/EU; Ahsoka went there once. The Felacatians are Near-Humans (they look like literal cat people) that can turn into huge, predatory cats when under lots of stress like being stuck in hyperspace for too long. Procopia, the noble houses, and the Tapani sector are lifted from the Wookie articles about West End Games’ Lords of the Expanse, Player’s Guide to Tapani, and Tapani Sector Instant Adventures. When I run out of Legends/EU books, I’ll hunt down some supplementals for the Star Wars: The Roleplaying Game. 
> 
> Next one-shot may have something to do with spring or it’s another summer story. Here’s hoping Vader is more involved in the next one-shot.


End file.
